A Face Made For Daylight

Joining the Dots

Hey guys! Surprise Chapter for tonight <3  

It's not as long as the one before but THIS ONE----this one I love.  This one has all the explanations you need too <3

Next chapter, we will be headed to the 60s--EYCTE Alistair!

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Stella and Alistair sat on the plush sofa in the dark cabaret as the light flickered around them. Confetti scattered on the ground beneath their feet. Alistair hunched over with his forearms resting on his thighs, his hands hanging between his legs. His shirt unbuttoned slightly more than before, courtesy of Stella's fingers, his hair tousled, also courtesy of her hands all over him. He looked around the fantasy world he once built for love. It became his personal prison. the Cabaret de L'Enfer was living up to its translation: The Cabaret of Hell.

Stella sat an arm's length away. She was glaring at a spot on the ground, her mind was galaxies away. She hunched forward, her palms under her elbows.

Alistair couldn't take the silence anymore. He already exposed so much of his feelings tonight without saying the words. Moment ago, his lips moaned against hers. He tasted her. And now he couldn't have her and he didn't know why. He looked at Stella. She looked different now. The One, he thought. A simple expression with one hell of a punchline.

Stella beat him to it. "Alistair---I don't understand." She turned her head to face him. Alistair turned to meet her gaze smiling sadly, he sighed looking back to his hands.

"Okay---here's what we know so far, okay?" He turned to her with his lips parted ready to speak. Stella looked into his eyes. He noticed how flushed she was, her lipstick smeared, her hair undone. Alistair licked his lips smiling.

"Fuck--- love, I just ----can't even look at you now without wanting to kiss you." Stella smiled a sad smile looking away. She felt it too. Alistair's smile faded feeling their despair

"Okay—" Alistair continued. "Here's what we know so far—Your blood is poisonous to me because of your blood condition. I know for a fact I can touch your skin—because I've kissed your head before, and your hands—and----" Alistair paused furrowing his brows. He raised a brow looking over at Stella.

"Christ, I could never keep my dirty hands off of you-- could I?" Stella smiled. Alistair felt that warmth again.

He continued. "Right---so I can touch you but I can't kiss your lips---physically be inside you---or touch your sweat. "

"I know it sounds gross Alistair, but just say it. You can touch me if I'm dry but you can't touch any of my fluids" Stella immediately regretted using those words.

Alistair arched his brow. "So basically, ---at all times because you're always wet aren't you, you dirty girl." He chuckled.

Stella grunted sighing and walked up to the bar. Alistair's gaze following her, admiring her figure as she reached over the bar grabbing the first thing she found already open and ready for use. Wine it was.

Alistair exhaled getting up, walking towards her. She tried to reach for the glasses, but he beat her to it bringing two down. He reached for the bottle of bourbon instead. They sat facing each other on the bar stools, their knees pointed towards one another.

Stella took a sip, letting the drink soothe her. "So---you can't touch any of my insides, which includes my mouth and tongue."

Alistair frowned as the sharp liquor hit his throat. He licked his lips.

"And—" Stella tilted her head. "You promised me that in exchange of us falling in love, you would give me immortality to take away my illness."

"Love---I'm not gonna fucking do that." He furrowed his brows searching her eyes. "I won't take your life to give you--this--this horrible life. "